


A Little Backwards

by coincidental_penalties, watchforwalkers



Category: Glee
Genre: Aggressive Apple Eating, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, Because People Grow and Learn But They Haven't Just Yet, Break Up, Don't Think About Why Your Mom Owns Lube, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e13 Sectionals, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Kurtcedes friendship, M/M, Not Particularly Friendly to Season 1 Puck's Behavior, Not Particularly Friendly to Season 1 Quinn's Behavior, Not Particularly Friendly to Season 1 Rachel's Behavior, Ouch, Past Finn/Quinn, Revenge Sex, Sharing Clothes, Sharing the Last of the Milk Means I Love You, Shhhh We Snuck In The Fish Reference, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-02 09:56:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1055412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coincidental_penalties/pseuds/coincidental_penalties, https://archiveofourown.org/users/watchforwalkers/pseuds/watchforwalkers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rachel Berry tells Finn the truth about Quinn's pregnancy, he feels like the whole world is falling down around him and that nobody else even cares. What Finn needs is a pizza, a football movie, a shoulder to cry on, and a way to get even. Kurt Hummel is just the right person for the job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Backwards

Kurt carefully adjusts his hair as he studies Rachel. “Well, you didn’t exactly get a grateful kiss, now did you?” he says, one eyebrow raised, and he nudges Mercedes. Mercedes gives him a mock-appalled look, but Kurt can tell she wants to at least giggle. The two of them exchange what Kurt doesn’t like to call a smirk before linking arms and leaving Rachel standing there. 

“That was unexpected,” Kurt says as soon as they’re out of Rachel’s hearing. “All of it.” 

“That girl can’t keep her mouth shut,” Mercedes replies. 

“Poor Finn,” Kurt says, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. “Finding out like _that_.” 

“Puck’s lucky Finn didn’t beat the bejesus out of him before Mr. Schue stepped in,” Mercedes says. “That boy needs some anger management.”

Kurt waves his hand dismissively and slips on his sunglasses. “You’re distracted from the larger point. Finn feels betrayed and alone now, Mercedes.” 

“Mmmhmm. And, you’re what? Gonna swoop in and be his new best friend?” Mercedes shakes her head. “Mercenary. That’s what you are, Kurt Hummel, _mercenary_.”

“Oh, no,” Kurt says, clucking his tongue again. “I don’t want to be his _friend_.” 

“Oh, I _know_ what you want to be. What are you planning on telling him if he asks why you didn’t tell him yourself?”

Kurt shrugs. “I didn’t think it was my place, not when I had heard it from a source that wasn’t either of them,” he recites. “Good?”

Mercedes sighs and shakes her head again. “I just hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. You couldn’t pay me enough to step in the middle of all that baby drama.”

“I’m going to get Finn’s favorite pizza—pepperoni, sausage, green peppers, and black olives—and go to Family Video and find a sports movie. Football, I think. And then I will go visit him at his house and offer my compassionate listening ear,” Kurt explains. 

“Just be careful,” Mercedes warns. “If he’s still in a mood, you might be the next thing he kicks over!”

Kurt scoffs. “He wouldn’t.” Kurt stops in front of his Navigator. “I promise I’ll let you know by midnight that I’m fine.” 

“You’d better, or I’m coming after you,” Mercedes promises. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Kurt says, climbing into the Navigator and starting it with a final wave. He goes to Family Video first and spends ten minutes evaluating the available football movies, finally selecting _Friday Night Lights_. 

Kurt shudders a little to himself as he places the pizza order, because he can’t believe he ordered a pizza with pepperoni on it, even if he orders his own sausage, mushroom, onion, and green pepper pizza as well. 

“Big night planned?” the middle-aged woman asks. 

“Just a night with a friend,” Kurt answers absently, because it’s true. It’s nothing he wouldn’t do for one of the girls after a breakup, though he wouldn’t be thinking about hopefully kissing one of the girls. Kissing. “Oh! Cancel the onions on the sausage and mushroom!” he tells her frantically. 

“Just a friend?” the woman says knowingly, but she removes the onions from the order, and then Kurt only has one stop before Finn’s, to get some pop. That done, he heads towards Finn’s house, a route he knows far better than he probably should. 

Kurt parks on the street, making sure the Navigator is facing the correct way, then checks his hair and teeth in the mirror before getting out, balancing the food, movie, and his bag carefully on his way to Finn’s front door. 

Once he arrives at the door, he balances the pizza against the doorframe, DVD on top of the boxes, and knocks loudly on the door itself. When no one answers, Kurt knocks a second time, hitting the door with more force. The door opens, revealing a red-eyed and baffled-looking Finn.

“Kurt?” Finn asks, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What you want?”

“I have pizza and a movie,” Kurt says with more confidence than he actually feels, whatever he might have led Mercedes to believe. “And pop.” He pauses, sure he’s forgetting something, but perhaps he should get inside the door before offering to listen. There’s no sense in reminding Finn _yet_ of the exact details of why Kurt is there.

"You brought pizza?" Finn asks, and Kurt tsks, because surely Finn can smell it, even if he doesn’t see the boxes right in front of him. 

“One of them’s your favorite,” Kurt says, nodding. 

"Oh." Finn frowns and steps back from the door. "I guess you should come in, then."

Kurt smiles at Finn, not too widely, and steps inside, releasing a small sigh as the door closes.

***

Finn doesn't want to believe what Rachel's telling him, but something in his gut tells him it's true. It makes so much more sense than Quinn's hot tub story, more sense than Finn wishes it did, and even though Rachel keeps on talking, something about tests and Quinn not being Jewish, Finn can't really hear her over the swooshing sound of blood in his ears. He bolts for the choir room, Rachel calling "Finn? Finn!" after him.

Finn sees Puck in the choir room, and the weird look on Puck's face all these past weeks finally making sense. Before Finn even realizes what he's doing, one of his hands is twisted in the front of Puck's shirt, the other hand balling into a fist to land in Puck's face. Quinn, Mercedes, and probably a few other people scream, Rachel's shrill voice still rising above all of them, but nothing stops Finn from continuing to beat his fists against Puck's face until Mr. Schuester finally pulls Finn and Puck apart.

Quinn doesn't deny it. Puck not only doesn't deny it, but reminds Finn how stupid he was to believe anything Quinn told him. Finn sees red, too furious to talk to anyone else, and when his foot connects with a chair on the way out of the classroom, he wishes the chair was someone's face, though he's no longer exactly sure whose.

When Finn gets home, he rips up the ultrasound picture from Quinn, letting the tiny pieces fall to the ground like confetti at some seriously fucked up party. He deletes the sonogram video from his computer. He tears his posters off his walls, kicks over his desk chair and his trashcan, knocks everything on his dresser onto the floor. When Finn has nothing else left in his room to destroy besides his furniture and computer, he throws himself down onto his bed, presses his face into his pillow, and screams as loud as he can, as long as he can.

Some amount of time passes. Finn's screaming tapers off, the fiery rage that was powering it disappearing, replaced by tears and exhaustion. How could he have been such a fool? How could he have been so damn stupid? How could he believe such an obvious lie? No wonder everybody treats him like an idiot, when it's perfectly clear now that he _is_ one.

More time passes. Finn stops crying, just lying on his bed and staring up at the waterstain on his ceiling instead. Everybody he trusts has been lying to him. Everybody has twisted and manipulated him for weeks, months, even. Finn feels stupid, used. 

His room gets dark, but he doesn't get up or turn on a light. He doesn't fix himself any dinner. He just keeps lying on his bed, wishing that he'd get struck by lightning or a tornado would rip him out of his window, so everyone in glee would feel guilty about lying to him.

When Finn hears the knock on his front door, he tries to ignore it. When it doesn't go away, instead getting louder and louder, he hauls himself to his feet and stomps down the stairs to answer the door. He halfway expected it to be Puck, looking to finish the fight, or Santana or Brittany to get Quinn's stuff from the guest room. Finn did _not_ expect it to be Kurt Hummel, arms loaded with pizza boxes.

Once Kurt is inside, Finn isn't sure what to do with him. "I guess you can put the pizza on the table?" Finn suggests uncertainly. 

“I hope you like the movie,” Kurt says, sliding the pizza boxes onto the table and picking up the DVD box from on top of them. “It’s about football, if the back is to be believed.”

"So you brought me pizza and a football movie because... why?" Finn asks. "I mean, thanks and all of that, but why?"

“If you were a girl, it would have been ice cream and some kind of romantic comedy,” Kurt says, tapping his finger against his cheek. “You might even enjoy some rom coms. But I thought some homosocial bonding in the form of a team sport was a better respite for you. And doesn’t everyone like pizza?”

"Uh," Finn says, because he isn't sure what to say about homo-bonding or rom coms. "Yes?"

“I have to admit, I can’t stand pepperoni,” Kurt says, as if he’s sharing spy secrets or something, and he peeks in both boxes before sliding one towards Finn. “It’s, well, it’s _therapy_ , Finn.” 

"So, what? This is, like, a break-up party?" Finn asks. He frowns at Kurt, though it's hard to be mad about pizza or football movies. "I don't have to let you do my hair or anything, right?" Finn finally asks.

“Less of a party, more of a commiseration, and no, I don’t think there’s much to be done with your hair.” Kurt has an odd look in his eye, and he opens his mouth again before closing it, giving his head a little shake. He looks around for a moment before looking back at Finn. “Paper towels?”

“Yeah, I’ll get some,” Finn says, grabbing a few off the roll in the kitchen. 

Kurt nods and opens his box of pizza, pulling out two slices and setting them on top of the box before picking it up. "Movie time, then?"

“Yeah, I guess so,” Finn says. He takes the whole pizza box with him in the living room, setting it on the coffee table before turning on the tv. “Which football movie is it?”

" _Friday Night Lights_ ," Kurt responds, sitting down with his pizza box in his lap. 

“Cool,” Finn says half-heartedly. He puts the DVD into the player and then sits on the sofa in front of his pizza box. “Remote’s next to you.” 

"Oh!" Kurt says, stopping with a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth. "My hands are so messy already, I'd hate to mess up your sofa or your remote."

Finn frowns at the remote, which is sitting on the sofa cushion on the other side of Kurt. “Yeah, okay,” Finn says, leaning across Kurt to get the remote. When he sits up again, pointing the remote at the tv, Kurt looks almost guilty, and he may or may not be barely blushing, pink on just a tiny part of his cheeks. 

“Have you seen this movie?” Kurt asks after taking a bite of pizza and finishing chewing it. 

“Maybe,” Finn says, shrugging. 

“I thought about one called _We Are Marshall_ , but it involved some kind of plane crash, which sounded upsetting,” Kurt says. 

“Yeah,” Finn says, not that he really cares either way. He _feels_ like a plane crash. He can’t really work himself up over a plane crash in a movie. 

Without saying anything else, Finn presses play, and for the next fifteen minutes, he and Kurt sit in silence, eating pizza and sort of watching the movie. Well, Kurt might _really_ be watching, but Finn doesn’t have the energy to pay attention to what’s happening or care much about it. 

“I don’t remember it being like that,” Kurt says suddenly. 

“Huh?” Finn mumbles through a mouth of pizza.

“Such camaraderie in the locker room,” Kurt says, gesturing towards the tv with his slice of pizza. 

“That’s ‘cause you made us dance.”

“Even _before_ everyone danced,” Kurt argues.

Finn shrugs. “Maybe it’s because you were the kicker,” he says, though it’s probably more that Kurt was the _gay_ kicker.

“I guess I’ll keep that in mind if I ever want to rejoin the team,” Kurt says dryly. “Choose a different position.” 

“You could try out for running back,” Finn suggests, a little more bitterly than he means to sound. “At least _you_ wouldn’t sleep with my girlfriend.”

“Well.” Kurt looks almost flustered. “That’s true. I wouldn’t sleep with your girlfriend, whoever that might be.” He looks away from the tv and raises an eyebrow. “You _did_ realize that was Rachel’s motivation, right?”

“Sleeping with my girlfriend?” Finn asks, tilting his head to look at Kurt better. 

“No!” Kurt makes a horrified face. “ _Becoming_ your girlfriend.” 

“Yeah,” Finn sighs. “Yeah, I know.” His shoulders drop and he lets himself sag against the back of the sofa, staring back at the tv screen. 

Kurt tsks, sounding disapproving. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either,” Finn says. “Can we stop talking about it?”

Kurt hums a little, then takes a bite of his pizza and watches the movie for a few more minutes. “Pizza good?” he asks finally. 

“Yeah, it is, thanks,” Finn says, frowning again and twisting his mouth up. 

“What is it?”

“How’d you know what I like on my pizza?” 

“I’m observant,” Kurt says defensively. “If everyone from New Directions is eating together, you pick the mushrooms off your supreme slice, just like Artie picks off the green peppers, and I pick off the pepperoni. And the black olives.” 

“Oh,” Finn says. “Okay, then.” He turns back to the movie, helping himself to a fourth slice of his pizza.

Another ten or fifteen minutes pass, and Kurt turns towards Finn. “What do you _like_ about football?” 

“Playing it. Watching it. Sometimes talking about it,” Finn says. 

“No, I mean, why do you like playing it? What is the appeal for you?” 

Finn shrugs. “It’s fun. I like throwing the ball and running around. Getting tackled sucks sometimes, but sometimes it’s fun, too.” He picks at his pizza, rearranging some of the pepperoni. “It’s nice to have a thing I don’t totally suck at.”

“You’re good at it. You’re good at singing, too,” Kurt says thoughtfully. “I didn’t really enjoy football. I liked that my dad liked that I was playing.” 

“Yeah, I bet that’s nice,” Finn says. 

“Does your mom like football?” Kurt pauses. “Or glee club?”

“She likes them okay, I guess,” Finn says. “She doesn’t go to every game or anything.”

“I think my dad was disappointed when I quit. He would have gone to every game, happily.” Kurt sighs, sounding sad. “And he doesn’t really understand most of what I say when I talk about glee club.” 

Finn’s mom has mostly wanted to talk about Quinn, the baby, and Finn’s plans for the future lately, but none of that’s really relevant anymore. Finn shrugs again. “Yeah,” he says.

Kurt doesn’t seem to know what to say next, and he keeps eating pizza. Finn never really stopped to think about Kurt and food before, but now that they’re both sitting there eating pizza together, Finn can see that Kurt definitely eats as much pizza as any of the other guys in glee. 

“Sometimes with the girls, after a movie, we make cookie dough or brownie batter,” Kurt says suddenly. “What’s your favorite dessert?”

“You actually _make_ cookie dough?” Finn asks. “Like, make-make it? You don’t buy it in the tube already made?”

“It depends on who’s hosting,” Kurt explains. “Brittany’s parents think that the cookie dough tube is questionable, and sometimes Tina forgets to buy it.”

“So you can just make it from stuff that’s already in the house?” 

Kurt tilts his head towards Finn. “As long as you have flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, brown sugar, and some chocolate chips,” he says slowly. 

“How do I know if we have all those things? Is there a specific place they’re supposed to be kept?” Finn asks. “I mean, I know where the eggs are, but the other stuff.”

“Some people keep them in canisters that are labeled, but I don’t know about your mother,” Kurt says. “Why? Do you want to try to make cookie dough?”

Finn looks down at the pizza in his hands, trying not to smile. “Maybe. Or maybe more like, I wanted you to make cookie dough, ‘cause you already know how, and you probably won’t make as big of a mess.”

“Oh, no, Finn Hudson,” Kurt says, sounding like he’s teasing. “If you help, one day, you’ll be able to make your mother cookies.” 

“Is that a good thing?”

“Don’t you think she’d appreciate that kind of gesture?” Kurt asks. 

“Yeah, but then she might want me to cook other stuff, too,” Finn protests.

Kurt makes a face at him, then tsks. “Then I suppose you should wait until Mother’s Day senior year to bake for her,” he says finally. “But yes _we_ can make cookie dough after the movie is over.”

“Maybe I’ll just watch you make it the first time.”

Kurt turns to fully face Finn, one eyebrow quirked, and he just stares at Finn, slowly chewing on his pizza. Finn smiles at Kurt in a way that he hope will make Kurt agree to just make the cookie dough and let Finn eat. “I know what you’re trying to do,” Kurt says, pointing at Finn. 

“What? I’m not trying to do anything!” Finn insists. 

“You will, at the very least, help measure things!”

“Yeah, okay, I can measure things,” Finn says. “You’ll have to remind me how many tablespoons go in a teaspoon and stuff like that, though.”

“No one does,” Kurt says, after looking confused for a moment. “No one understands that.” 

“Good. Then I don’t feel so dumb!” Finn says. 

Kurt laughs for a minute, then turns back to the tv, looking fairly interested in the movie. It keeps playing, and Kurt finishes his pizza, putting his box on the floor and then stretching. Finn stacks his own empty pizza box on top of Kurt’s, propping his feet on the coffee table and settling back against the sofa. 

“You can put your feet on the table, if you want,” Finn says. “My mom’s not here.”

“Oh.” Kurt looks confused, but after a moment, he puts one foot on the table, crossing his other leg over it. “Does she care, or does she just pretend to care?” 

Finn gives Kurt a little grin, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “She’s not here, so it doesn’t matter either way, does it?”

Kurt’s cheeks get a little pink again, and he shakes his head. “No, I suppose not!” 

The movie keeps playing, and when it finally goes to the credits, Finn clicks the tv off. “That was pretty good. I think I’d seen the middle part of it before, but not the beginning or end. Thanks, Kurt.”

“You’re welcome,” Kurt says, slowly moving his feet off the table. “Cookie dough now?”

“Yeah, I’m definitely ready to watch you make cookie dough!”

Kurt shakes his finger, lips pursed. “You’re going to _help_ , Finn.”

“Alllll riiiiiight,” Finn fake-whines. “But we’re eating all of it when it’s done.”

“What else would we do with it?” Kurt asks, sounding genuinely confused. 

“Bake it. But we’re not going to bake it. We’re going to eat it.”

“Oh, yes. That’s what I assumed,” Kurt says, standing up and stretching. 

“Okay then,” Finn says. He carries their pizza boxes back into the kitchen, leaving them on the table, and then stands in the middle of the kitchen, waiting. “So, what first?”

"Do you know where your mother keeps her bowls and measuring cups?" Kurt asks. "I'll start looking for ingredients."

“Uhhh. Somewhere over there, probably?” Finn guesses, gesturing towards one of the cabinets. “I don’t ever measure anything. I just eyeball it.”

"I suppose that's why your mother doesn't have you bake, then," Kurt says, almost to himself. "Well, start looking."

Finn opens one of the cabinets and starts pulling out bowls. “Are these the right kind of bowls?”

"The largest one, yes. Unless you only wanted to make a very small batch," Kurt says with a funny look on his face, like he's trying not to laugh.

“Well, that would be dumb,” Finn says. He puts all but the largest bowl back into the cabinet. “Measuring cups are... maybe in that drawer?”

" _Which_ drawer?" Kurt asks, setting a bag of flour on the counter. 

“That one,” Finn says, still facing the cabinet and restacking the bowls. 

"Finn Hudson, do you want cookie dough or not?"

“What? Why wouldn’t I want cookie dough?” Finn asks, turning around to look at Kurt. “I want cookie dough.”

"Then you need to remember I can't read your mind," Kurt says. "There's more than one drawer."

“Yeah, so?”

"So which one!" Kurt says, shaking his head and then muttering to himself. 

“I don’t know!” Finn blurts. “I thought if I just says ‘that one’ you’d figure it out and then you’d think I know where the measuring cups are!”

"Oh," Kurt says, turning around and facing the cabinet as his shoulders shake for a moment. 

“Are you laughing at me?” Finn demands. 

Kurt wheels around, his lips pressed together, and he shakes his head frantically. "No!" he manages, even though he clearly was.

“You are!” Finn insists. “What, just ‘cause I don’t know where the, I don’t know, four ounce measuring cup is or something, you’re gonna laugh at me?”

Kurt shakes his head. "Not that! That you seemed to think my opinion of you was heavily influenced by your knowledge of where the measuring cups are!"

“Well, it _might_ be!” 

"It's not," Kurt says, his cheeks getting pink again, and he starts opening a drawer at a time until he pulls out measuring cups and measuring spoons.

“How am I supposed to know that?” Finn asks. “You yelled at Mercedes one day for wearing the wrong shade of orange!”

"Mercedes is my best friend, despite the wrong shade of orange. I wouldn't stop being her friend because of it!" Kurt says, shaking his head and starting to measure flour. "It's very—well, it's nice to know you consider these things." 

Finn shrugs. “You brought me pizza.”

Kurt almost startles, then smiles to himself before turning to Finn. "Do you want to try to find chocolate chips? I think that's all we're missing."

“Sure. I’ll look where my mom hides stuff from me,” Finn says. He has to get down on the floor and look on the top shelf of the bottom-most cabinet, but sure enough, he finds a bag of chocolate chips, along with a Milky Way, a bag of peppermints, and a small bottle of Kahlua. He puts all of his finds on the counter in front of Kurt.

“Excellent,” Kurt says, still measuring things out. “I don’t know about the Kahlua, though we could try it…” he says uncertainly. “It might be an interesting additional flavor. Instead of vanilla, perhaps.”

“You don’t think my mom’ll notice?” Finn asks.

“Not if we don’t use the entire bottle.” Kurt frowns. “Or maybe if the entire bottle is missing, she’ll think she finished it, but probably not. We should just use a little.” He looks over at Finn and raises an eyebrow. “Does your mother have a mixer?”

“Probably,” Finn says.

“Good, I didn’t want us to cream the butter by hand,” Kurt admits, walking to the microwave with butter on a plate and putting it in for ten seconds. “I don’t see one on the counter, so probably a hand-held,” he continues, and it’s not really clear if he’s talking to Finn or himself. 

“Uh. Yeah, probably,” Finn agrees. “We can probably just use the blender if we need to. I know where the blender is.”

“Oh, no.” Kurt shakes his head. “Not the blender.” He opens two more cabinets, then makes a pleased noise when he opens the third one. “Right there.” He points and turns to Finn. “Could you get it down for me, please?”

“Sure,” Finn says, standing next to Kurt to get the mixer down. He has to lean against Kurt’s side to reach it without dropping it, and Kurt doesn’t move until Finn hands him the mixer. 

“Thank you,” Kurt says, smiling brightly at Finn. He hooks up the mixer, still smiling, and starts putting the cookies together, and he keeps smiling until he turns around, bowl in hand. “Voila! Cookie dough.” 

“Awesome! We don’t have to refrigerate it or anything?” Finn asks, opening the silverware drawer and pulling out two spoons. 

“We would if we were _baking_ it,” Kurt says, “but not since we’re _eating_ it. Where shall we sit?”

“Did you want to watch another movie or something?” Finn asks. “Or tv?”

“Whatever you want to do,” Kurt says. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“ _Goonies_.”

“Have you watched it recently?”

“Nah, ‘cause nobody else ever wants to watch with me, but it’s not a good watching alone movie,” Finn says. 

“Well, put it on if you like,” Kurt suggests.

Finn carries the spoons into the living room, Kurt following him with the bowl of cookie dough, and while Kurt sits down, Finn puts on _Goonies_. 

“I’ve never seen it,” Kurt confesses. “Tell me about it.”

“No. You have to watch it,” Finn says. He hands a spoon to Kurt and takes the bowl of cookie dough out of Kurt’s hands, setting on his own lap as the movie starts. 

“Hey!” Kurt protests, sticking his spoon in the bowl. “I am sure I did more to make this cookie dough than you did!”

“It’s for your own protection. No, it’s for the cookie dough’s own protection,” Finn explains.

“Neither I nor the cookie dough _need_ protection!” Kurt says. 

“Oh yeah? Try to take this cookie dough and see what happens,” Finn says. “You might need protection. I mean, you might—I didn’t mean for it to sound like that!” He ducks his head and puts his hand up to his face. “Just watch the movie.”

Kurt laughs, grabbing a huge spoonful of the cookie dough. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Yeah, you’d better,” Finn says.

Kurt doesn’t say much while the first part of the movie plays, though he does keep reaching over to scoop a spoonful of cookie dough out of the bowl in Finn’s lap. _Goonies_ is usually enough to put Finn in a great mood, and he had been having a good time with Kurt up to that point, but as the movie continues, Finn starts to think about what happened at school that afternoon. 

Maybe it’s because he and Puck had watched this movie together so many times over the years, but Finn suddenly can’t stop thinking about the look on Puck’s face and what he said about Finn being stupid enough to fall for Quinn’s lie. That makes Finn start thinking about Quinn’s lie, and how the baby isn’t his, and even though a really big part of him feels relieved that he isn’t going to be a dad at 16, another part of him feels cheated. Finn sighs loudly and moves the cookie dough bowl to the coffee table. 

“Are you okay?” Kurt asks immediately. “Does it taste bad?”

“Huh?” Finn asks.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks, sounding like he’s quite distressed. 

“Just not hungry anymore,” Finn says, sighing again.

“Oh,” Kurt says quietly, and he lifts one hand, putting it down almost immediately, and then he lifts it again, finally patting Finn’s shoulder tentatively. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Finn says, toying with the tv remote and not looking at Kurt. 

Kurt hums, still patting Finn’s shoulder. “I think it’s okay to feel lots of different ways,” he says. “Even if they seem contradictory.”

“I feel like I hate everybody,” Finn replies. 

“I suppose that’s understandable.”

“Everybody lied to me,” Finn continues. “They all knew. They all lied to me and let Puck and Quinn keep lying to me.”

Kurt’s hand stills for a moment, then resumes patting Finn’s shoulder. “When you hear something secondhand or thirdhand or even fourthhand, you don’t know if it’s true, and even if there’s a 98 percent chance it’s true, that two percent keeps you from saying anything.” 

“I just feel like such an idiot!” Finn says, raising his voice. “I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not,” Kurt says immediately. “You got, got—hoodwinked. They tricked you. That’s not stupid on your part.”

“I was stupid enough to believe what Quinn told me,” Finn counters. “I’m so stupid, she knew I wouldn’t even question it. I’m so stupid, Puck was practically waving the truth in my face, ‘cause he knew I wouldn’t get it.”

“You had no reason to even guess at such a betrayal,” Kurt says. “No reason at all. No one else would have been suspicious, either.” The hand that’s been patting Finn’s shoulder starts stroking, down Finn’s shoulder and upper arm. 

“I just don’t understand,” Finn says, feeling the rage from earlier starting to rise again, mixed with the same desire to cry that made him smash everything in his bedroom. “I don’t understand why she’d do that. Why would she do that? Why would either of them do that?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt says, his hand still stroking Finn’s arm. “I don’t understand it either, Finn.” 

Finn turns his face away from Kurt as he feels his eyes start to water. “Why would she have sex with him? Why would he have sex with her? There’s like a million other girls at McKinley. I don’t understand why he’d—he’s supposed to be my best friend.”

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t know, Finn. It doesn’t make any sense for either of them to do it.” His hand slides down Finn’s arm. “I wouldn’t pick someone else,” he mutters quietly. 

“If she wanted to break up, she could have just told me. She could have said she wanted to be with Puck,” Finn says, wiping his eyes. “If she just wanted to have sex with somebody, why would she pick _him_?”

“I know, it doesn’t make any sense,” Kurt agrees. “It was very unfair to you.” 

“I don’t think anybody was thinking about _me_ ,” Finn says. He wipes the back of his hand across his eyes again, still keeping his face turned away from Kurt, hoping Kurt won’t notice he’s crying or at least will pretend not to notice. 

“No,” Kurt says softly, turning on the sofa so he’s facing Finn, and his other hand starts patting Finn’s leg. “But someone should have been.” 

“Nobody cares how I feel.”

“You should do something,” Kurt says, “something to show them.” 

“I should,” Finn agrees, nodding his head while tears still roll down his face. “I should show them I don’t care how they feel, either. I should show them they can’t just lie to me and sneak around behind my back and treat me like I’m stupid.”

“Because you’re not stupid, Finn,” Kurt assures him. “You aren’t stupid at all.”

***

When Finn says that someone should have been thinking about _him_ , it takes everything in Kurt to avoid immediately offering that he does think about Finn, that he nearly always is thinking about Finn. Kurt isn’t even sure what he means when he says that Finn should do something to show them, but Finn likes the suggestion, and it’s true, so true. Finn isn’t stupid, and he should do _something_.

Kurt’s hands are on Finn, which makes it a little harder to think, if Kurt’s completely honest, and the evening has been going _so_ well that Kurt feels vaguely guilty for being so happy when Finn is clearly so miserable. Hardly able to believe his own daring, Kurt moves his hand from Finn’s arm to the top of Finn’s hand. 

“Anyone who doesn’t understand you aren’t stupid doesn’t really know you at all, in fact,” Kurt continues. 

“Thanks, Kurt,” Finn says softly, almost sheepishly. “You’re the only person who even tried to see how I was doing. That means a lot.”

“You’re so much better than either of them,” Kurt says, still with his hand on Finn’s. “You’re different than everyone else, Finn, just like me. We’re not meant to just be regular people in a tiny town.” He stops patting Finn’s leg, stroking it very slowly and lightly instead. Finn is snuffling, trying hard not to let on that he’s been crying, and Kurt at least can give him that, pretending not to notice. 

“I don’t know, Kurt. I just don’t know about that,” Finn sighs. 

“You are,” Kurt insists. “You have a spark, Finn, a spark that most people don’t have. You’re _better_ than everyone else. You’re different.” Kurt keeps stroking Finn’s leg, and he squeezes Finn’s hand with his other hand. 

“If I’m better than anybody, why would Quinn want Puck instead of me?” Finn asks, sighing again. 

“Clearly she wasn’t smart enough to see it,” Kurt responds quickly. “You—you have a right to be upset, of course, Finn, but you’ve also realized something sooner than you would have otherwise, about the rest of them.”

“What?” Finn asks bitterly. “That none of them care about me and that they all think I’m some big, stupid idiot?”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Kurt says. “You know what they think, and you know how wrong they are. You have knowledge you didn’t have before.” He squeezes Finn’s hand again. “Let’s show them, Finn.” 

“I want to show them,” Finn agrees. “I want to show them they’re wrong about me. I want...”

“What, Finn?” Kurt asks softly. 

Finn continues in a low voice, dripping with venom, “I want to hurt somebody, too. I want to hurt them back for hurting me.”

Kurt nods, his hand still squeezing Finn’s, and then he moves it, twining their fingers together. “I have an idea,” he says, his mind racing, and he watches his own hand, fascinated, as it moves up Finn’s leg. “I know what you can do.” 

Finn looks up and their gazes lock, Finn’s eyes burning. “What can I do?”

Kurt licks his lips nervously, his hand moving up without stopping. “Sleep with me,” he says, taking a deep breath at the end of the sentence. 

Finn startles, blinking his eyes rapidly. “What?” he asks.

“You and me,” Kurt says. “We should have sex.”

“I think maybe I don’t understand,” Finn says.

“It’ll hurt people, if they find out,” Kurt says. “I’m sure of that. And no one can make snide remarks about how you haven’t had sex, either.” 

“But I’m not—I haven’t ever—” 

“If we did,” Kurt explains. “If we did have sex, you would have had sex.” He flicks his eyes down to his hand again and then smiles at Finn as he slowly moves his hand up again. He keeps watching Finn’s face and Finn’s expression as he presses more firmly with his stroking hand. 

“And it’ll hurt them?” Finn asks, looking more hopeful than he has since the subject was brought up. “It’ll pay them back for what they did?”

Kurt knows that Puck won’t really care, but he has no idea what would hurt Puck. Quinn and Rachel, though, yes, Kurt knows they’ll hurt. “It’ll hurt them,” Kurt confirms. 

“But I’m—I don’t think I’m gay, Kurt,” Finn says. 

“Everyone’s a little bit gay, Finn,” Kurt says. 

“They are?”

“Absolutely,” Kurt says, nodding. He takes a deep breath and moves his hand a final time, dropping it lightly on Finn’s zipper. Kurt can feel his own eyes widening a little, and he tries not to breathe too rapidly, thinking about the fact that underneath his hand is Finn’s actual dick. 

Finn looks slightly panicked, his eyes darting between Kurt’s face and Kurt’s hand. “Kurt?” 

“It’s okay, Finn,” Kurt says softly. “Everything’s okay. It’s just us.” 

“Just us?” Finn repeats back.

“Just you and me,” Kurt agrees. “It’s okay.” He moves his hand very slowly, his fingers curling around Finn. “It’s okay.”

Finn makes a squeak, his eyes widening. “Quinn didn’t even let me get to second base,” he says quietly.

“I’m not Quinn,” Kurt says firmly. 

Finn shakes his head, the ghost of a smile briefly crossing his face. “No second base to get to, either.”

Kurt tries not to laugh, shaking his own head. “No second base in play,” he agrees, curling his fingers more. “Straight to third.”

Finn makes the squeak again, almost a yelp this time, and he pushes against Kurt’s hand, still not looking any less panicked. Kurt smiles at Finn, feeling weirdly shy, and presses down with his hand. 

“Is that good?” Kurt asks, trying not to let his uncertainty bleed into his voice. 

Finn nods his head rapidly. “Mmhmm.”

“Good,” Kurt says, moving his hand a little more. “Is, uh, is there anything else you want me to do right now?”

“I don’t know,” Finn says. His breathing gets more rapid, and instead of his eyes moving between Kurt’s face and hand, now they’re just watching Kurt’s hand. 

Kurt bites his lip, watching Finn watching him. “Do you want to—I could—unzip your pants?” Kurt offers in a rush. 

Finn’s face turns red as he nods. Kurt tries to smile again, knowing it’s a little shaky, and he slowly reaches for Finn’s jeans with his other hand, unbuttoning and then unzipping Finn’s jeans equally slowly before moving his hand inside Finn’s jeans, touching Finn through his boxers, and Kurt wonders what happens if he kisses Finn. 

Surely Finn wouldn’t be upset about that, though, not with Kurt’s hand in his pants, touching his dick, and Kurt leans up and over to press his lips gently against Finn’s. Finn squeaks against Kurt’s lips, which feels funny, but Finn doesn’t pull away. Finn inhales sharply after the squeak, and Kurt prepares himself for a reaction of some kind, but the only reaction is that Finn starts kissing him back.

Kurt fights his urge to make his own startled noise, keeping his hand on Finn’s dick through his boxers, still moving it slowly as they kiss. Kurt slides his other hand up Finn’s chest and then around the back of Finn’s neck, and he takes a deep breath, despite the kiss, before moving the hand on Finn’s dick inside Finn’s boxers, his fingers curling around as much of it as possible. 

“Oh,” Finn suddenly breathes against Kurt’s lips. “Oh! Oh shit!” Kurt pulls back just enough to stare at Finn’s face, which has turned bright red, before he registers that Finn just came, and there’s come on the palm of Kurt’s hand. 

“Oh!” Kurt echoes, feeling sheepish for being surprised. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Finn blurts.

“Oh, no, don’t be sorry!” Kurt says quickly. “It’s fine. It’s good! It’s good.” Kurt isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do, his hand half-down Finn’s boxers with come on it, and he sits there for a few moments too long before he leans back in to kiss Finn, wiping his hand on the bottom of Finn’s polo shirt. 

Finn looks down at his shirt, then up at Kurt, and he squints his eyes, his head tilting to the side. “Did you just...?”

“You could take it off!” Kurt says, his eyes widening at his own boldness. 

Finn’s eyes widen too. “Oh.” He looks down at his shirt again, and then seems to realize they’re still in the living room, because he looks around the room with a dawning look of horror. “We should go upstairs.”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees, feeling a little breathless. “We—we can do that.” He pulls back slightly, then carefully moves his hands. “Okay, let’s go upstairs.” 

Finn nods once, looking strangely determined, and then stands up, taking a moment to look down at his unfastened jeans like they surprised him by still being unzipped. His mouth twists to the side momentarily, and then he gives the determined nod again before just holding his jeans up by the waistband as he heads towards the stairs, looking back over his shoulder at Kurt. 

“It’s up here,” Finn says, even though Kurt has been to Finn’s house before and knows where his room is. Kurt nods and follows Finn, because it’s probably not the time to recount when he was there previously. Kurt doesn’t really know what to say, so he plays with the hem of his shirt as he climbs up the remaining stairs. 

Once they’re in Finn’s room, Kurt sits on the edge of the bed. “Is it okay if I—?” he starts, tugging upward a little on his own shirt. 

Finn's eyes shouldn't be able to get any wider at this point, but somehow they do. "Oh. Uh. Sure?"

Kurt nods a little, the act of pulling off his shirt giving him a moment to compose himself, and when he starts to place his shirt off to the side, he frowns, suddenly taking in the destroyed-looking nature of the room. It’s probably _better_ that Finn hurt things instead of people, if he had a need to physically damage things, but it’s still a little sad, and Kurt schools his face before looking back at Finn and smiling. “Your turn.”

Finn looks slightly distressed, the panic returning to his face, but he pulls his shirt over his head almost obediently. He stands by the edge of the bed, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as he twists his shirt in his hands.

“Put it down,” Kurt suggests, reaching for Finn’s hands. Finn lets the shirt drop to the floor near his feet, where it lands on top of a broken desk lamp. Kurt takes Finn’s hands, pulling Finn to him, and he decides to lean back, trying to take Finn with him. 

Finn resists at first, but then he lets Kurt pull him down. He lands on top of Kurt, bracing himself on his elbows and forearms on either side of Kurt. Finn peers down at Kurt's face, his eyebrows knitting together in sudden worry.

"Am I too heavy?" he asks Kurt. "Do you need me to move?"

“No, no,” Kurt says quickly. “No, you’re fine.” 

The worried expression turns back into the panicked look. "Oh. Oh, shit, Kurt, you're a guy, you're a dude! Puck was right about glee, he was right, he said—"

“Finn!” Kurt interrupts, fighting the urge to laugh. “Finn, if Puck were right, then I think Artie would have been affected sooner than you.” He doesn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to know what Finn was going to say—that glee club would turn Finn gay. “But yes. I am a guy.” 

"I don't know what I'm doing. I shouldn't be doing this! This was a mis—"

“It’s okay, Finn,” Kurt interjects. “It’s okay. I don’t really know, either.” He puts one hand on Finn’s neck, holding it loosely. “We’re okay.” He can tell that clearly, not all of Finn thinks that it’s a mistake, and Kurt runs his hand slowly down Finn’s back. “We’re good, Finn.” 

"I don't feel like anything makes sense anymore," Finn says, his eyes starting to glisten.

“We’re just going to be here,” Kurt says. “Have some—some fun. We’re okay.” He wants to reassure Finn, but there are things he can’t really reassure Finn about, just help deal with now. 

"You're always so nice to me," Finn says softly. One tear leaks out of the corner of Finn's eye, making a damp track down his cheeks. "Why are you always so nice to me? You always try to help me."

“For starters, why wouldn’t I be?” Kurt counters lightly, swallowing a little. “Why wouldn’t I help you and be nice to you?” 

"I haven't always been so great to you," Finn admits, furrowing his brow. 

Kurt tries to grin a little. “I could say I’m just a very forgiving person,” he tries. 

"It means a lot. Really." Finn stares into Kurt's eyes, his own eyes still slightly shiny from unshed tears. Finn shifts his weight onto his left arm, bringing his right hand up to barely brush his thumb against Kurt's cheek. "Thank you."

“You’re welcome,” Kurt says softly, moving one hand into Finn’s hair. “I’m going to kiss you again,” he warns, pulling Finn’s head towards him as he leans up. When their lips meet, Finn is the one who increases the pressure of the kiss, his lips just slightly parting against Kurt's. Kurt tries to hold back, tries not to push Finn too far too fast, but he can feel his hand in Finn’s hair, tugging on it, and his arm around Finn’s back pulling Finn closer, and one of his legs winds around part of Finn’s leg, because Kurt feels like he needs all parts of him as close as possible to Finn, right at that moment. 

When Finn's tongue touches Kurt's lip, Kurt gasps just a little, his mouth opening under Finn’s. Finn pushes his tongue into Kurt's mouth, the kisses more hurried, nearly frantic, as Finn continues moving his mouth against Kurt's. Kurt arches himself towards Finn, up off the bed, and he has the momentary flash of insight that he understands what the girls say, about boys just _wanting_ , because that’s what Kurt feels like he’s become, nothing but desire and want and need. 

“I want,” Kurt gasps out, pulling his lips away from Finn’s but not the rest of his body. “I want more.” He isn’t sure exactly what he wants, but the kissing, even his chest against Finn’s, isn’t enough. 

"What?" Finn murmurs against Kurt's lips. "What do you want?"

“More,” Kurt says, a little desperately. “More. You. More of you.” 

Finn lets out a little whine, even as he's crushing his mouth against Kurt's again, kissing him roughly. One of Finn's hands strokes the side of Kurt's neck, tracing over his clavicle and along his shoulder. Finn breathes heavily as they kiss, his chest heaving against Kurt's, so Kurt can feel both their hearts hammering away inside their chests.

Kurt holds Finn’s head, keeping their lips in contact, and he kisses Finn through the realization in his own mind that he _wants_ to have sex with Finn. Not just in an abstract way, the fairytale-esque romance Kurt likes to imagine that does, of course, include sex in the end. And not just in the way he presented it to Finn, to help Finn get back at them, and not even in hopes of convincing Finn he is, in fact, gay. Kurt just wants to have sex with Finn, right then, and would, in the absence of the other reasons, and Kurt finds it all a little heady and overwhelming. 

“I want to have sex with you,” he mumbles, mostly into Finn’s mouth. 

"Yeah," Finn replies, sounding almost like Kurt would imagine Finn would sound if he were drunk. "Yeah, that's what we should do."

“I want to _right now_ ,” Kurt adds, because suddenly, the most urgent thing he can think of is having sex, and before that, finishing the task of getting undressed. “I want our clothes off, oh my god.” 

“Yeah, that’s—oh, shit, do you have condoms? I don’t have any condoms!” Finn says, pulling away from Kurt with his eyes widening. 

Kurt shakes his head, feeling confused. “We don’t really need one,” Kurt insists. “There’s really no risk.”

“But they said in health class—”

“Neither one of us has had sex before!” Kurt points out. “And it’s not like either of us can get pregnant,” he adds a little more quietly.

“Oh,” Finn says. “Oh, yeah, I guess not.”

Kurt’s eyes widen a little. “Lube, we need lube.”

“We need—huh?”

“Lube,” Kurt repeats. “Something to, well.” Kurt can feel himself himself blushing. “Lubricate.”

“Oh. Like for— _ohhh_!” Finn’s face turns bright red. “I don’t have any of that!”

“Crap.” Kurt sighs, thinking for a minute. “We should go look. See what’s in your house.”

“I don’t think we have, you know, lube.”

“Just look in the bathroom for _something_ ,” Kurt says. “I’ll go look in the other bathrooms. How many bathrooms are there?”

“Just mine and my mom’s. What should I look for?” Finn asks.

“Something slippery.” Kurt says, chewing on his bottom lip. “Like lotion. Not toothpaste.”

Finn gives Kurt an adorable half grin. “I know _that_ much.”

Kurt shakes his head, smiling back, and goes to find Carole’s bathroom. At first, he doesn’t think he’s going to have much luck. There’s too much hairspray and too many different perfumes, but stuck behind lipsticks that Kurt knows immediately did not look good on Carole, he finds a small bottle. 

“Aha,” Kurt says to himself, picking it up and smiling a little to himself when he reads the ‘KY’ on the side. He straightens, heading back to Finn’s room. 

“I found lotion and some sunburn gel stuff,” Finn says, holding up a bottle of Aveeno and one of aloe vera. “Are these good?”

“They would be, maybe, if we didn’t have this,” Kurt says, showing Finn the bottle of KY. “It’s a little thin but it is lube.” 

“Where’d you find it?” Finn asks, peering at the bottle of KY with a mystified expression.

“Behind the numerous lipsticks that your mother obviously realized were not the right color for her.” 

“Wait, that belongs to my _mom_?” Finn says, looking horrified. “Oh. Oh god. No, no, no, I don’t need to know that kind of stuff! Oh my god!”

“Just pretend it’s a miraculous occurrence,” Kurt suggests. “Does it really matter where it came from?”

“Yes! Yes, it matters!”

“Pretend I found it on the porch?” 

“Why would it be on the porch?” Finn says.

Kurt shrugs and crosses the room, kissing Finn again in lieu of actually answering him. He maneuvers them towards the bed, putting his hand inside Finn’s jeans again, curling his fingers around Finn’s dick. Finn moans into Kurt’s mouth, letting Kurt direct him until they’re both falling over onto the bed again. 

Kurt puts his other hand in Finn’s hair, rolling the two of them until Finn’s hovering over Kurt again as they kiss, and Kurt keeps stroking Finn’s dick slowly. Kurt feels Finn’s hand on his forehead, brushing his hair off his face, and then Finn’s hand gently cradles Kurt’s face. Kurt pulls his hand out of Finn’s jeans, moving both hands to Finn’s sides, slowly pushing them down. Finn wiggles his hips, helping the jeans fall, and there’s a soft thud as they hit the floor. 

“That’s good,” Kurt mutters against Finn’s mouth. “This is good.” Kurt moves his hand back to Finn’s dick, stroking it slowly for a moment before tugging downward on Finn’s boxers. 

“Yeah,” Finn breathes. “It’s good. It’s good.”

Kurt keeps tugging down on Finn’s boxers, pulling them past Finn’s hips and then running his hands back up Finn’s bare skin to rest them on Finn’s hips. “I want,” Kurt says, kissing Finn hard again, and he feels almost dizzy. 

“Yeah?” Finn asks. “Tell me what you want.”

“You, I want you, I want this, I—I didn’t know,” Kurt tries to explain, because he didn’t know just how he _could_ want it. “I need…” he trails off, moving his hands to his own pants. Finn presses his mouth to Kurt’s again, his tongue deep in Kurt’s mouth, and Kurt kisses back while he unfastens his pants and slowly wiggles out of his pants and underwear. He kicks them off the bed, hoping they don’t land on Finn’s come-covered shirt, and wraps his arms around Finn again, kissing Finn just a little harder as his dick presses against Finn. 

Finn freezes, breathing rapidly through his nose. Kurt strokes Finn’s back slowly, gently kissing Finn’s lips. Finn makes a distressed squeak, and Kurt kisses him again before pulling away. 

“We’re good, Finn,” Kurt whispers. “We’re very good, and we’re good like this. Together.” Kurt puts one hand back on Finn’s dick, stroking it slowly. “So good.” 

“Yeah?” Finn asks in a tremulous voice.

“We’re going to show everyone, Finn,” Kurt says. “Everyone who hurt you, and you’re going to have fun doing it.” 

“Yes,” Finn says. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his body relaxing against Kurt’s. Kurt smiles at Finn, then kisses him again, his hand still stroking Finn’s dick. 

“I want this,” Kurt assures him. “I do.” He reaches to the side, picking up the bottle of KY and pouring some in his hand before putting it back on Finn’s dick and stroking it. Finn makes a low moan, actually pushing up into Kurt’s hand this time. Kurt nods a little, still moving his hand, and he watches Finn’s face. “How—how do you want me?” 

Finn’s eyes open, and he blinks a few times. “I don’t know. Is there a, I don’t know. Usual way?” 

“There’s a lot of ways, I guess,” Kurt says uncertainly. “I thought if, you know. You had any kind of thought.” Kurt’s not sure if Finn’s thought about anything like two guys having sex, especially not enough to have a thought about positioning, but in case he has, Kurt wants him to be comfortable. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be, like, you know. Hands and knees?” Finn offers. 

“Okay,” Kurt says. “That’s good.” Kurt strokes Finn’s dick a few more times before releasing it and slowly rolling himself over. Finn puts his hand tentatively on the curve of Kurt’s ass, and Kurt looks over his shoulder to smile at Finn. “It’s so good, and we’re going to have fun, I promise.”

“You’re sure?” Finn asks, an almost hopeful tone in his voice. “You want me?”

“Oh yes,” Kurt says, nodding a little. “I do. I want you. I want this.” 

“Me too,” Finn says. 

Kurt can feel his smile get bigger, and he nods at Finn. “Yeah. We’re good, Finn.” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “We’re good.” Finn’s hand is on Kurt’s ass, and Kurt can feel Finn’s dick, nudging at his ass in not quite the right place. Kurt bites his lip as Finn moves around, changing position slightly, and he bites back a gasp as he feels the very tip of Finn’s dick start to push in. 

“Oh.” Kurt can feel his breathing change. “Oh, you’re—that’s—” 

“Oh. Oh, shit. Ohhh shit,” Finn pants. 

“Uh-huh,” Kurt agrees breathlessly. “Oh my god.” He closes his eyes, because most of him can’t believe that he’s actually having sex, with Finn. That Finn is _inside_ him, pushing in slowly, and Kurt tries not to wince as his body stretches around Finn’s dick. 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Oh my god.”

Kurt is suddenly glad he’s not facing Finn, because he can feel his face contorting as Finn keeps pushing inside. He doesn’t want Finn to stop, though, not now, and he doesn’t want Finn to see his face as he breathes through it. He winces until the moment Finn is still, and he can feel his body relaxing a little. 

“Finn?” Kurt whispers. 

“Kurt,” Finn replies quietly. 

“This—it’s good,” Kurt says, voice still quiet, and he realizes he means it, not just as a reassurance to Finn. 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees. “It’s—I don’t know what. Good. Really good.” Finn starts to move again, and Kurt can feel himself wincing again, enough that he tries to balance himself and start stroking his own dick. After a few moments, he reaches, fumbling, for Finn’s hand, and manages to get both their hands back on Kurt’s dick, slowly stroking. 

“I don’t know what I expected,” Kurt says. “But—oh my god.” 

“Shit, Kurt. It’s so tight. It’s so tight it almost hurts,” Finn breathes, moving at a slow but unsteady pace. Kurt resists the urge to snort or otherwise respond, just nods his agreement, their hands still moving on Kurt’s dick, and Kurt concentrates mostly on that, on the feel of Finn’s hand touching him. 

“I don’t know what I’m feeling,” Kurt admits. Even though it hurts, he doesn’t want Finn to stop, and he doesn’t know how to describe how he feels about all of it. 

Finn thrusts a little harder, and both of them gasp. Finn leans forward, his chest against Kurt’s back, his free arm braced against Kurt’s side. His breath is hot against the back of Kurt’s neck.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you,” Finn says, his voice full of awe. “I can’t believe you want me like this.”

Kurt almost lets out a laugh, then stops himself, nodding a little again. “I do. I do want you like this.” Kurt feels every movement of Finn inside him, and he lets out a shaky breath, still a little dumbfounded that he’s there, right there, having sex with Finn. 

Finn thrusts into Kurt, a bit too rough, making little moans and squeaks. Suddenly Finn’s lips are against the back of Kurt’s neck, barely kissing it as his moans get louder. “Oh. Oh, shit. Oh, Kurt. I’m gonna come, I’m—” He cuts himself off as he starts to shudder, pushing hard into Kurt one last time. 

Kurt keeps Finn’s hand moving with his on Kurt’s dick, his eyes widening at the feeling of Finn coming inside him. After a few seconds, he realizes it feels good, not just having Finn coming, but knowing he came because of Kurt, because of what they were doing, and their hands only have to stroke a few more times before Kurt comes, too, whimpering slightly. 

He pulls away from Finn enough for Finn’s dick to slip out, and Kurt turns over as best he can, pulling Finn into his arms and resisting the urge to giggle as he kisses Finn’s neck and cheek. 

“See, we’re so good, Finn,” Kurt murmurs. “You’re so good, that was good, you and me, Finn.” Part of Kurt wants to giggle absurdly and declare out loud that they just had _sex_ , even though it wasn’t quite as amazing as Kurt had thought it might be. 

Finn wraps and drapes his body around and over Kurt, nuzzling at the top of Kurt’s head. “That felt so good,” he murmurs. If he sounded a little drunk before they had sex, he sounds completely high now, his body heavy and boneless and covering most of Kurt’s body. 

“You’re so good,” Kurt repeats, putting his fingers in Finn’s hair. He closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy how Finn feels against him. 

“I feel so much better,” Finn says softly. “So much lighter.”

Kurt smiles, eyes still closed. “Good. I’m glad.” He pauses before continuing. “I’m really glad.” He pulls the blankets over both of them, tugging until they’re in place.

“Yeah,” Finn breathes. “Me, too.”

Kurt puts his fingers through Finn’s hair again and sighs happily, almost petting Finn as they both fall asleep.

***

Finn isn’t even sure at this point how it happened, but nothing has ever felt better, ever ever, in his whole life, ever. He’s inside Kurt, and it’s so hot and tight, and Kurt keeps moving and shifting underneath him, and Finn had thought he might have to close his eyes and pretend he was with somebody else, but he didn’t, not even a little. Now his hand is on Kurt’s dick and it’s not as weird as he thought it would be.

With his lips against the back of Kurt’s neck, Finn confesses, “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you. I can’t believe you want me like this.”

“I do. I do want you like this,” Kurt replies, breathing heavily underneath Finn. Finn presses a kiss to the back of Kurt’s neck, because Kurt wants him. Kurt chose _Finn_ to do this with, Finn is somebody’s first choice, he’s wanted. 

Finn loses his awareness of everything else, focusing on nothing but Kurt, being inside him, what it feels like. He hears himself talking, but it’s not anything important, it’s just noise. Coming inside Kurt doesn’t feel like anything else. It just feels amazing, and Kurt coming under him just a little bit after is kind of amazing, too. 

The sex being over, and Finn sliding out of Kurt may be the worst thing ever, which is saying something on the heels of the day Finn had. When he thinks about Puck and Quinn now, though, it hurts a little less, like he somehow let go of some of the weight of all that. Maybe he passed it to Kurt, or maybe Kurt just helped it disappear, but Finn feels lighter, more free.

He curls up on and around Kurt, pressing as much of his skin to Kurt’s as he can, because every little bit of skin-on-skin contact make him feel warmer and better. Kurt pulls a blanket up over them and starts running his fingers through Finn’s hair. Finn closes his eyes and lets Kurt’s gentle touch follow him into sleep.

Finn wakes up to his alarm in the morning, sticky and with a stiff neck from sleeping in a weird position. His arms and legs are tangled up with someone else’s and he has a mouthful of someone else’s hair, because that someone’s head is tucked under Finn’s, pressed against Finn’s chest. Finn tries to move his arm, but it’s fallen asleep under Kurt’s—because the _someone_ is _Kurt Hummel_ —body, so Finn has to nudge his body against Kurt’s to encourage him to roll off of it. 

Kurt doesn’t wake up, but Finn does manage to get his arm out from underneath Kurt, though it takes long enough that Finn has time to think over the previous night and how he had sex with Kurt Hummel. Thinking about having sex with Kurt, and why, makes everything from the previous day come flooding back. Quinn and Puck. Everyone knowing and not telling him. Rachel’s obvious joy in being the one to tell Finn the truth.

It still hurts in the light of a new day, but not as much as Finn expected it would. Thinking about how upset he was last night just brings him right back around to thinking about Kurt under him, about being inside Kurt, and that gives all the shitty parts of the day a little more distance. 

Whatever Kurt might have said last night, and however much Finn might have agreed with him in the moment, Finn know that having sex with Kurt may not really make a difference where anyone else is concerned. Quinn probably won’t care. Maybe nobody will care. Knowing that doesn’t make the previous night any less awesome, or make Finn feel any worse, and it doesn’t take away the satisfaction of having had sex with the last person probably any of them would have expected. 

Finn sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and runs his hand through his hair before standing up and putting on a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He can still smell himself, but he realizes that’s probably actually the sex smell all over him, which is kind of cool. He stumbles out of his room and into the bathroom, then downstairs to the kitchen, where his mom is sitting at the table reading the paper. 

“Good morning, honey,” Carole says without looking up from her paper. “If you’re going to have a friend sleep over on a school night, you need to give me a heads up. We’re almost out of milk.”

“Oh. Yeah it was, uh. Accidental,” Finn says. 

“Did your friend trip and fall asleep in your room?” Carole asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I just mean I didn’t plan it or anything. Kurt just showed up with pizza and a movie,” Finn tries to explain without looking guilty or like he had gay sex last night. “Something happened. At school, I mean.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I don’t really want to go into it too much right now,” Finn says. “Just, Quinn’s not gonna be staying here anymore, ‘cause it’s not my baby, ‘cause she slept with Puck.”

Carole stares at Finn for a few moments, then blinks and shakes her head. “I—I don’t know what to say, Finn.” 

“Yeah. So that’s why Kurt came over with pizza and a movie. So now I’m gonna eat some cereal and then wake Kurt up and then go to school, okay?”

“Okay,” Carole says slowly. “Have a good day at school, I guess.” 

“Thanks,” Finn says. He pours himself a bowl of cereal and half of the remaining milk, in case Kurt wants some of it, and eats his bowl of cereal before going upstairs to his room again. Kurt is still sound asleep, though, even after Finn shuts his door loudly and turns on the lights. 

“Hey Kurt?” Finn says quietly. Kurt doesn’t answer. 

“Hey Kurt,” he says a little louder. Kurt still doesn’t answer.

Finn climbs onto the bed and puts his face near Kurt’s ear, saying, “Hey! Kurt!”

Kurt flinches, at least, and his eyes start blinking. “Finn?” he says, sounding very confused.

“Cool. You’re awake. Do you want cereal?” Finn asks, sitting back so his face isn’t right in Kurt’s face anymore.

“What kind?” Kurt asks, almost suspiciously, and he makes a few faces until his eyes widen and he looks less confused. 

“Multigrain Cheerios or the last of the Lucky Charms,” Finn says, and, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kurt says, smiling a little. “Can I mix the two?”

Finn smiles widely back at Kurt. “Yeah, if you want to. I left you half of the milk. It’s not really enough for a bowl of cereal, but it was half of what we had, so...” He shrugs. “I left it for you.”

“Thank you,” Kurt says, stretching and sitting up with a wince. “I, um.” He stops and shakes his head once. “Last night—it was fun.” 

“Yeah,” Finn agrees, ducking his head a little so he’s not making direct eye contact with Kurt, especially since Finn can feel his face turning red. “I, uh. Thank you.”

Kurt laughs for a few seconds. “I think the thanks is mutual.” He reaches out with one hand and takes one of Finn’s, squeezing it. “We were good, weren’t we?”

Finn probably turns redder, but he can’t help smiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I think we were.”

Kurt’s smile gets bigger and he moves closer to Finn, wincing briefly. “I—” Kurt stops himself, leaning in to give Finn a very soft, tentative kiss. Finn kisses back, closed-lipped but firm. Kurt pulls back and smiles hugely, bigger than Finn’s ever seen him smile. “I guess we have to go to school,” he says softly. 

“Yeah, my mom says I need to remember to let her know if a friend is staying the night on a school night next time,” Finn says. “She’s not in the kitchen anymore, though.”

Kurt winces dramatically. “Oh, shit, my dad!” He looks around Finn’s bedroom and then at Finn. “Did I leave my bag downstairs?”

“It’s not up here, so probably?”

“I should check my phone.” His eyes widen. “I don’t have any _clothes_ here!”

“You can wear your jeans again, and, uh... borrow one of my shirts, I guess? If you want to,” Finn says. “I have some sweaters or sweatshirts if you want to see if any of them fit.”

“I think they’ll hang off of me,” Kurt says, “but I can try.” He pauses. “People will know if they see me dressed like that.”

Finn shrugs. “So? Wasn’t that the point?”

“What was fine last night might not be okay in the morning. I just wanted to check,” Kurt explains. He shifts, looking slightly uncomfortable, and then stands, pulling on his underwear and jeans. 

“You okay?” Finn asks, frowning.

“Just a little uncomfortable. It’s nothing,” Kurt says dismissively. “Let’s find some kind of sweater or sweatshirt.”

“You sure? Do you need, I don’t know, Advil or something?” Finn asks, pulling one of his drawers out for Kurt to look through the sweaters and sweatshirts. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Kurt says. He rifles through Finn’s drawer, making a face at one point, then pulling out two different shirts. “I’ll try these on.” 

“Okay. Take whichever one you want,” Finn says. “Do you need a shower or something?” He pauses for a second, and asks, “Was it bad?”

“No!” Kurt says quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just—”

“Did I hurt you? Oh my god, I hurt you, didn’t I?” Finn asks, frowning harder.

“Stop, Finn, no, you didn’t,” Kurt says, standing in front of Finn and taking one hand. “It’s like… like a good workout. You might be a little sore the next day, but it was more than worth it.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to have hurt you,” Finn says. “What you did, it was, like, the _nicest_ thing anybody’s ever done for me.”

“I’m _sure_ ,” Kurt says. “And it wasn’t totally selfless,” he adds, his cheeks turning pink as he tries on the first shirt. “Well, if I want to bring _Flashdance_ back, this is perfect,” he mutters. 

“I don’t know what that means, but if you like that one, you can wear it.”

Kurt shakes his head. “It comes down just a little far on my shoulder.” He pulls it off and slips on the second one. 

“But you wear shirts that do that sometimes,” Finn says.

“Yes, but not with the coat I was wearing yesterday.” Kurt straightens the second shirt, his cheeks getting a little pinker. “Is this one okay?” he asks Finn. 

“Yeah, sure, whichever one you want is fine,” Finn says. “Oh, and I guess I need to get dressed, too. Did you want the shower? Should _I_ take a shower? I kind of smell like, uh. Sex.”

“Only if it bothers you,” Kurt offers. “I should go find my bag and my phone while you get dressed.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Finn says. He pulls another shirt of out the drawer without really worrying which one it is. While Kurt goes downstairs, Finn puts on jeans and the shirts, and by the time he gets downstairs, Kurt has his coat and bag on. 

“Mercedes texted me, her dad called her and she covered for me,” Kurt says with a little smile. “You want a ride to school?”

“Yeah, if that’s cool with you,” Finn says.

“Of course.”

Kurt eats a bowl of cereal, then they hurry out to Kurt’s SUV and head towards McKinley, singing along with the radio as they go. Kurt takes a long time to park, inching into the spot slowly, backing out a little, then pulling in again until the SUV is perfectly positioned between the two lines. When Kurt finally turns off the engine, Finn gets out, waiting by the back end of the SUV for Kurt, and not sure what’s supposed to happen now.

Does he walk Kurt to class? Does Kurt walk _him_ to class? Do neither of them walk nobody to class? Finn glances over at Kurt for some kind of signal. 

Kurt joins him and smiles, walking towards the school. “I don’t think either of us got any homework done last night,” he says when they’re halfway there. 

“If anybody asks, I’ll tell them it’s ‘cause my pregnant ex-girlfriend lied about it being my baby,” Finn points out. “Who’s gonna argue with that?”

“That’s true,” Kurt says. He does the funny thing he does with his hair, glancing at Finn. “I don’t think I can use that excuse. Luckily I usually do my homework.”

“You were comforting me,” Finn says. 

“Yes.” Kurt’s smile gets bigger. “I could continue comforting you.” 

Finn blushes, giving Kurt a small smile. “Do you want to?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” 

The walk through the double doors, Finn going through first and catching the door so it doesn’t swing back and hit Kurt. “Cool,” Finn says. “Yeah. If you want.”

“I think we’re in agreement, then,” Kurt says, heading towards his locker and starting to exchange a few of his books. Finn leans against the locker next to Kurt’s, watching. “Don’t you need to go to your locker?” Kurt asks. 

Finn shrugs. “Lying pregnant ex-girlfriend.”

“Touché,” Kurt says with a little smile, closing his locker. “But you probably should go to class.”

“Yeah, probably,” Finn says. “Where’s your first period class?”

“The other side of the building,” Kurt says with a sigh. “Someone didn’t like me when they assigned my locker and made my schedule.” 

“That sucks. See you later, though?” Finn asks. “If you want?”

Kurt smiles and nods twice. “I’ll see you later. Let me know if you want a ride home?”

“Okay,” Finn says, giving Kurt one more big smile before turning and walking in the other direction towards his first period class, a little swagger in his step that he doesn’t bother to try and hide. 

When Finn turns the corner for the hallway his class is in, Puck is leaning against the wall by the water fountain. Puck tentatively nods in his direction, his face slightly swollen, but Finn looks away. He has a sudden thought that he bets Puck didn’t make Quinn come like Finn made Kurt come last night, and Finn looks back at Puck, giving him a smug grin before continuing down the hall to his classroom. 

The day is definitely looking pretty good so far.

***

Kurt divides his thoughts between singing along with the radio, and going back over the night before, and even the morning. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he can’t regret it, especially not when Finn doesn’t seem to have much remaining panic. Kurt isn’t sure what will happen at school, but he’s at least confident that Finn’s not going to push him away completely.

When Kurt parks, he almost expects to get out and spot Finn’s back headed towards the school, but Finn waits for him, and Kurt can’t help but smile because of that, too. Finn follows him all the way to his locker, which means that when Kurt heads towards his class, he can’t stop smiling to himself. 

Mercedes intercepts him first, even though he’s looking for Rachel and Quinn. 

“You feel like telling me where you really were last night?” Mercedes asks. “Since I told your dad you were having a bad reaction to some Chinese takeout and were in the bathroom and couldn’t take his call.”

“An act for which I am profoundly grateful,” Kurt says, linking his arm in Mercedes’. “And I was exactly where I told you I would be.” He plays with the belt of his coat, slowly untying it as they walk. 

“Well, I hope you had a good time playing nurse for a moody Finn Hudson,” Mercedes says, shaking her head.

“Oh, no, he was in a great mood when I last saw him,” Kurt says. “Which was, hmm. Just a few minutes ago.” He slowly pushes his coat back, trying to draw Mercedes’ attention without saying anything. 

“Kurt Hummel! Whose sweatshirt is that?” Mercedes demands.

“You don’t think I got a McKinley Football sweatshirt during my brief stint on the team?” Kurt says, trying to sound offended. 

“You _didn’t_!” Mercedes says, suddenly stopping in the middle of the hall. “Kurt Hummel, you _hussy!_ ”

“Whatever you’re imagining?” Kurt says. “I probably did.” He smiles, a little smugly, and tugs on Mercedes’ arm for them to keep walking, as he slips out of his coat completely. 

“I am shocked and appalled,” Mercedes says. “And expecting a detailed recounting at lunch.”

Kurt laughs. “I expected no less. Now… have you seen anyone else from New Directions this morning?” 

“I saw Tina out back by the buses, and I saw Rachel in the—Kurt Hummel, you are _not_!”

“Not what?” Kurt says sweetly. “I just wanted to make sure and wish a couple of people good morning.” 

“Shameless,” Mercedes proclaims, shaking her head. 

Kurt shrugs, still smiling. “It’s a beautiful day, Mercedes.” 

“Mmhmm,” Mercedes agrees, giving Kurt a quick peck on the cheek before walking into her classroom, still shaking her head.

Kurt can admit to himself that he’s feeling like sauntering as he heads down the hall, and when he spots a short plaid skirt and knee highs, he barely glances at the long brown hair before calling out “Rachel!” 

Rachel spins, a perky smile on her face. “Kurt! Good morning!” 

“Good morning to you, too,” Kurt says, walking closer to her and still smiling. “How are you today?”

“I’m very optimistic,” Rachel starts. “I feel like I will—” She cuts herself off, her eyes widening. “Kurt? When—when did you get a McKinley Football sweatshirt?”

“Oh, it’s not mine,” Kurt says airily. 

“Then—who— _Kurt_? Is that?” Her eyes get even bigger, and she suddenly darts around Kurt, then back in front of him. “You’re wearing Finn’s sweatshirt!”

“I needed a shirt,” Kurt says, shrugging a little. “So I borrowed this one. Luckily we were at Finn’s house, since the one _he_ was wearing…” Kurt trails off and widens his smile, raising an eyebrow at Rachel. 

Rachel’s jaw drops, and Kurt wonders if her eyes can get any wider before she almost shrieks. “ _Kurt_!” she wails, sounding somehow betrayed, and Kurt shrugs again. 

“You were wrong, Rachel,” he says calmly, continuing down the hall and ignoring Rachel’s second anguished shriek. Kurt turns down the next hallway, letting himself smirk a little, and then schools his face into a friendly enough smile when he spots Quinn. 

“Hi, Kurt,” she says, in that fake-demure little voice she uses on everybody. 

“Good morning, Quinn,” Kurt says calmly, continuing to walk past her. He flicks his eyes to the side, trying to discreetly watch her face. It gets very still, then he just sees it starting to fall as he gets to his classroom. 

Kurt’s smile gets wider again as he sits down in his first class, pulling out his notebook. He doesn’t have his homework done, and he still has to do some fast talking with his dad, he suspects, but he can’t find it in himself to be upset or worried, because he has, in some way undefined, Finn Hudson. 

No one seems to have noticed Kurt’s wearing the same jeans as the day before, which makes Kurt happy, and he goes to his second period class with his smile firmly in place. He’s almost in the classroom when he hears a voice he easily recognizes as Puck’s yelling behind him. “Hey! Hummel!”

Kurt wheels, raising an eyebrow, and Puck snorts. “Just checking to see if you remembered your own last name.” 

“Oh?” 

“Why are you wearing Finn’s shirt?” Puck demands. 

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Why do _you_ think?” 

“Seriously?” Puck says, sounding incredulous. “You and Finn?” 

“I didn’t break into his house and steal it, so yes, seriously,” Kurt says. 

“Huh.” Puck stares at Kurt for a few seconds, then squares his jaw a little and nods. “Well, good for you,” he says, genuinely enough. 

“Thanks,” Kurt says slowly. “Enjoy your relationship, as well.” Once he says it, he wants to wince, because there’s not exactly a _relationship_ , but more than just a one-night stand is surely some kind of relationship. 

“Yeah, okay,” Puck says. “Thanks.” With that, he heads back down the hall the way he came, and Kurt shakes his head. 

“That was odd,” he says to himself as he sits down in his class. “Very odd.”

***

Finn’s still in great spirits when he leaves his third period class and heads towards the gym for PE. He’s smiling as he puts his books in his locker, almost whistling as he rounds the corner and Rachel Berry runs headlong into his chest.

“Oof,” Finn says.

“Finn!” Rachel exclaims. “I’ve been looking for you all morning!”

“Now you’ve found me,” Finn says, continuing to walk in the direction of the gym.

“How are you today?” Rachel says, her voice full of concern. “Are your spirits up?” 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for your concern,” Finn replies. 

“I heard the _strangest_ thing this morning,” Rachel say. “I mean, it’s just so odd, Finn, and I’m sure there’s a rational explanation for it. Did you have to loan anyone a shirt recently? And they didn’t give it back to you?” 

“Hmm. Well, I mean, Kurt wore my shirt to school this morning,” Finn says offhandedly. “Was that what you were talking about?”

Rachel gasps. “So was he telling the truth, Finn?” 

Finn stops in his tracks and looks down at Rachel, putting the most sincere look on his face he can manage. “Since you’re such a big fan of _honesty_ now... yes. Yes, he did. Yes _we_ did.” He smiles widely at Rachel. “And it was amazing. Just, you know, being honest.”

Rachel’s eyes get so wide, they almost bug out of her head, and then her face falls. She looks away after a few seconds, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it,” she says, her voice dramatically soft. “I had no idea.” 

“You wanted me to know the truth so I’d break it off with Quinn. I did,” Finn says, shrugging. “The only person who really cared what happened to me after that was Kurt.”

Rachel’s head comes up at that, and she briefly has a look of almost rage on her face, before she shakes her head, her hands balled up. “Well. I wish you the best of luck,” she says finally, hurrying away as soon as she finishes. 

“Thanks,” Finn says, not loudly enough for her to hear, then he continues strolling towards PE. 

After PE, but before the end of class bell rings, Finn wanders down the foreign language hall, coincidentally ending up in front of Kurt’s classroom just as the bell is ringing. He leans against the wall near the door as everybody leaves the classroom, snagging Kurt by the sleeve as he passes.

“Hey,” Finn says. “Lunch?”

“Well, hello, Finn Hudson,” Kurt says with a big smile. “Lunch sounds great.” He looks guilty for a moment. “Mercedes will forgive me.” 

“If you already promised to have lunch with her, that’s cool, too,” Finn says. 

“No, she wants details,” Kurt confesses. “I’m sure I can postpone that.” 

“Cool.” Finn grins at Kurt and nudges him with his elbow. “You can sit with me and the rest of the football team, then.”

“Oh. Okay,” Kurt says, his cheeks turning pink. 

Finn doesn’t hold Kurt’s hand or arm or anything, but they walk close together to the cafeteria and through the lunch line, then they sit down next to each other at the table with Matt, Mike, a few of the other guys, and Puck, way down at the end of the table, glaring in Finn’s direction. His eye is puffy and red, and he’s aggressively eating an apple as he glares. 

Matt nods at Finn and Kurt, but Mike says, “Hey, Kurt. Nice of you to join us today!”

“Hello, boys,” Kurt says, smiling at Mike and nodding at Matt as he sits down with his tray. Mike looks at Kurt’s shirt, then over at Finn, then back the shirt, squinting a little. 

“Did you rejoin the team?” Mike asks.

“What?” Kurt says, then looks down at his shirt. “Oh, no. I just borrowed it. I wasn’t in a _Flashdance_ state of mind this morning.” 

“Makes sense,” Mike says, nodding his head before looking back down at his tray and continuing to eat. 

After just a few minutes, half the table’s phones start buzzing, beeping, or chiming. Finn pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at the text he just received, reminding him of rehearsal today. 

“Oh, shit, I forgot about Sectionals this weekend!” Finn says, looking at Kurt and holding up the phone so Kurt can see the text, even though Kurt’s phone was one of the others that beeped. 

“Oh my god, I did too,” Kurt says, his eyes wide. 

“Seriously?” Mike asks, glancing at Matt, who also looks confused. 

“Wow, Kurt, you must be something,” Puck drawls, still glaring around his apple. Kurt startles just a little, and his cheeks are pink when he turns towards Finn. 

“Yeah, and funny how he doesn’t have to lie and sneak around about it, either,” Finn says sharply. “Guess he’s got a little more something than other people.” Kurt starts smiling a little, his cheeks even pinker, and he takes a bit of his lunch while glancing at Finn. Finn smiles back, and the rest of lunch is pretty uneventful, apart from Puck glaring through the rest of his apple, his sandwich, a pack of goldfish crackers, a juice box, and a twin-pack of Little Debbie cakes. 

After lunch, Finn and Kurt each go their own way for classes, meeting up at the choir room after school for rehearsal. Kurt smiles his big, happy smile at Finn, and sits down beside him while they wait for Mr. Schuester. 

“Still want a ride?” Kurt says, then turns bright pink. “A ride from school!”

Finn’s face turns a little red, too. “Yeah, that would be great.”

Rachel comes barreling into the room and plants herself in front of Finn’s chair, finger pointing at him. “Finn, we need to discuss something. For the good of the club.” 

“Uh. Okay?” Finn says, leaning back in his chair to move his face away from Rachel’s finger before she jabs him in the eye or something.

“You should be putting the needs of the club over your own personal feelings, Finn,” Rachel lectures. “I realize you’ve been traumatized through no fault of your own, but there’s no need to react so—so—so rashly!” Rachel takes a deep breath. “And you need to consider the good of the club rather than your personal issues with those who have wronged you!”

Finn nods his head slowly. “I’m not gonna punch anybody else, Rachel,” he promises.

“I don’t just mean physical violence!” Rachel says. 

“Manhands means how you were supposed to run to _her_ arms,” Santana says from the back row. “Sit down, Berry.” 

“It’s okay, Rachel,” Finn says. “I can be professional.”

Rachel huffs and glares at Finn, then Santana, before flouncing to her seat just as Mr. Schuester walks into the room, with Ms. Pillsbury beside him. “Is everyone okay today?” Mr. Schuester says tentatively. 

“Yeah, Mr. Schue, we’re good,” Finn says. 

Mr. Schue goes on to explain that he can’t accompany them to Sectionals, and that Ms. Pillsbury will be coaching them instead. Everybody gets some amount of worked up about it, but in the end, they all agree they’ll do their best to make Mr. Schuester proud, even if he can’t be there. 

After rehearsal, on the way out to Kurt’s SUV, Finn finds himself reaching for Kurt’s hand without even thinking about what he’s doing. Kurt’s cheeks do the pink thing again, and he glances at Finn with a smile. 

“Do you want to go straight home?” Kurt asks him. “Or we could, I don’t know. Go—”

“Do you want to go out with me after Sectionals?” Finn blurts. 

“Go out, like… go out-go out?” Kurt asks. 

“Like... dinner. Or a movie. Or dinner and a movie. Or just one of those if you’d rather do just one of those. Or neither and we can do something else,” Finn babbles, almost tripping over the words. “Mini-golf or coffee or a movie? Oh, shit, I already said movie!”

Kurt grabs Finn and kisses him, then pulls away with a huge smile. “Yes.” 

Finn grins back. “So it’s our first date?”

“Exactly,” Kurt says, still smiling. 

“We kind of came at it a little backwards,” Finn says. “Is that okay with you?”

“We did,” Kurt agrees. “It’s definitely okay with me. And I think dinner and a movie sounds great.” 

“Awesome,” Finn says, giving Kurt’s hand a squeeze before letting go so they can get into the SUV. “So... do you want to come back to my house with me? You never did get to finish watching _Goonies_.”


End file.
